


When It Snows in Arizona

by clgfanfic



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't snow in Arizona very often...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It Snows in Arizona

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Just You, Me and the Governor #3, and later in Ouch! #14 and Anything Goes #4 under the pen name Lynn Gill.

          _Damn, it's cold_ , Jed Curry complained to himself as he clamped his jaws tighter together to stop them from chattering.  He plodded along behind his partner, the slow, thoughtful steps of Hannibal Heyes all Jed thought about… besides the cold… and their recent run of bad luck.

          _God must have taken the same dislike to us as the Railroads and the Banks_ , Curry concluded bleakly.

          Heyes stumbled in the dull darkness of early morning and almost fell on some obstacle buried beneath the accumulated inches of snow that blanketed the drab southwestern desert.

          Curry unfolded his arms and placed a hand on the dark-haired man's shoulder to steady him.  "You all right?"

          Heyes nodded, then looked back over his shoulder at his partner.  Concern was etched deep into the pale, drawn skin of his face.  "We're goin' to have to rest pretty soon."  The words came out with a thick cloud of white mist.

          "I know."

          "I'm afraid if we do, we'll freeze to death," Heyes admitted to his partner.

          Curry nodded and took the lead, barely able to lift his boots.  _Damn, it's cold_ , he thought.

          Heyes followed along behind him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          As the first glow of dawn cast its pale orange glow on the horizon, Curry swore he felt it getting colder.  He stopped and felt the immediate force of his friend as Heyes walked headlong into him.

          "Sorry," the dark-haired man muttered.  "Guess I was sleepwalkin'."

          "It's gettin' colder," Curry said as he contemplated sitting down on a small, snow-capped boulder nearby.

          "Always gets coldest at dawn."

          "How'd you know something like that?"

          Heyes smiled, which set his teeth to chattering.  "It was in a book I read once," he managed past the clacking noise.

          "Those books ever tell you how to build a fire with no matches or flint, and everything in sight wet?"

          Heyes shook his head.  "Come on, we've gotta keep m-m-oving."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          By midday the sun had warmed Heyes up enough for him to know that he was hungry – very hungry.  "We've got to find some shelter before the sun goes down," he told his partner.  "I don't think either of us is going to make it through another night like the last one."

          "Heyes, I think we're jinxed."

          "Jinxed?  Ah, come on, Kid, we're just having a little run of bad luck, that's all."

          "That's all?" Curry asked, his voice rising an octave, echoing across the flat Arizona landscape and causing the ex-outlaw leader to cringe.  "You call the last two months a _little_ run of bad luck?"

          "Well, yeah."

          "Heyes, we were nearly killed in Wyoming when we stopped in to pay Lom a friendly little visit – if you'll recall – then we ran into that posse in Telluride that decided dead was easier than alive, then those crazy settlers in Utah… them other two bounty hunters in Taos—"

          Heyes picked up the litany.  "The renegade Indians along the Molgollon Rim, the Mexican bandits on our way down to Phoenix—"

          "Heyes," the Kid interrupted him, "a bolt of lightning killed your horse four days ago, mine just up and dies two days ago – for no good reason – and you call it a _little_ run of bad luck?  And now—"

          "I know!  I know!  A blizzard, in the middle of the desert!"  Heyes stopped to calm himself, then continued in his best soothing tone, "Kid, if everything in life was easy, well… well, we'd be bored."

          "Everything?  Oh, no, Heyes, I'm not askin' for _everything_ to be easy!  Just every other thing, or every third thing!"

          "I have a terrible feelin' you're losing your faith in me, Kid."

          "I'm not losing faith in you, Heyes… exactly.  I just wish that when your luck took a turn for the bad, it didn't pull mine down right along with it, that's all."

          Heyes stifled a smile.  "I'm glad to hear that's all it is."  He paused a moment.  "But why is it _my_ luck that took the turn, why not yours?"

          "Oh, this is just great," Curry muttered as a light powder began to swirl down around them.  He swatted at the flakes in front of his face like he was chasing off a swarm of gnats.  "What do you suggest now?"

          "I hate to admit it, Kid, but I think I've run outta ideas."  Heyes stopped and glanced around at the snow-covered desert.  It was beautiful in its own eerie way, caps of snow sitting daintily on the tops of the saguaro… cholla cactus transformed into lacy works of imagination… the hills— "The hills!"

          "Huh?"

          "The hills, Kid, the hills!"

          "Heyes, you all right?"

          "I'm fine!  I'm better than fine!  You remember that story we heard up in Santa Fe?  Before that rancher showed up, thinking you was the one who'd led his daughter to sin."

          "I forgot that one," the Kid said, frowning.

          "Remember the story about the bank robbers who took the Tombstone bank?"  Curry's expression remained frozen in a frown, so Heyes continued, "They hid out in a cave?  Gave the sheriff the slip, but he caught up to them in Winslow?  Three of 'em were killed and one went to prison?"

          Curry's brow wrinkled.  "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just forget this whole month, but I do seem to recall hearin' something like that.  So?"

          "So?  So, _those_ are the hills that the cave's supposed to be in!" the dark-haired ex-outlaw exclaimed, pointing to a series of white humps rising out of the otherwise flat desert.

          "Heyes, do you have any idea how hard it would be to find one little cave in all those hills?"

          "Well, I don't know about you, but I'd rather freeze to death looking for it than sitting out here on some rock."

          "You do have a point there."

          "Only if you sit on a cactus."

          Curry shot his partner a disgusted look, then waved him off in the direction of the hills.  "Remind me to freeze to death standin' up, will ya?"

          Heyes grinned and took the lead.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "We're not gonna find it, Heyes."

          "Would you quit saying that?  I'm apt to start believing you, and I don't like the alternatives."

          "Oh, I don't know.  I hear freezin' is a good way to go.  You just get real sleepy, and—"  A wide yawn stopped Curry's monologue.

          "Well, I'll be damned."

          "Whatizit?" Curry asked, still finishing the yawn.

          "Look at that."  Heyes pointed to a dark opening in the hillside.

          "I don't believe it."

          "Well, I do!"  Heyes grabbed his partner's jacket and began dragging him toward the opening.  Curry allowed himself to be pulled along toward the cave until they reached the entrance, then planted his feet firmly and stopped, jerking Heyes to a halt.

          "Now what?" Heyes asked reluctantly.

          "You think there're bears in there?"

          Heyes paused a moment, considering the question, then shook his head in frustration.  "There're no bears this far south, this is the desert, remember?"

          "Could've fooled me," Curry mumbled more to himself as he allowed Heyes to drag him into the mouth of the cave.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Curry stared suspiciously into the darkness while Heyes busied himself with building a fire out of the remains of kindling and wood they found lying inside the lip of the cave and stored on the ledges back from the opening.

          "The Indians around here must use this place on a regular basis."

          "Oh, that's just great, Heyes.  They'll probably drop in and want their firewood and we'll be here instead.  Who do you suppose, Apaches?  I wonder what Apaches do to prisoners.  I'll bet it ain't pleasant, whatever it is."

          "I told you once before I didn't know," Heyes grumbled.  "What's got into you anyway?"

          "Nothin', and that's the problem, Heyes.  I'm cold and I'm hungry and even with this cave for shelter, we still don't have anything to eat.  How long can a man go without food?  Winter lasts a while, you know."

          "The snow'll let up sooner or later and we'll be able to find something.  The Indians survive out here, the ranchers and settlers, too.  We're bound to find something."

          "Yeah?  Well, I hope you're right."

          An eerie wail echoed out of the darkness.

          "What was that?" Curry whispered, his revolver already in his hand.

          "I don't know."

          "Indians?"

          "I don't think so.  It didn't sound exactly human."

          "What _exactly_ did it sound like?"

          Heyes cringed as the sound echoed out of the darkness a second time.  "I can't rightly say."

          "Bears?"

          Heyes shot his cousin a frustrated glare.  "Look, why don't you go find out?  If it _is_ a bear, you can shoot it and we'll eat it for supper."

          "I'm not that hungry.  But, if you wanna go have a look, I'll be more 'n happy to get the fire ready."

          Another wail drifted out of the darkness.  "Whatever it is, it's getting closer," Heyes observed.

          "What now?"

          "Well, either we wait for it to get here, or we go looking for it in there… or we could pack up and face the snows out there again."

          "That's it?"

          "That's three options, what more do you want?"

          "A fourth," the Kid said flatly.

          A faint, cackling laugh drifted out of the blackness, followed by the dim trace of a torch fire.

          "You see that?" Heyes asked.

          "Yep," Curry said.  "Never heard of any bear carrying a torch, have you?"

          "Only the two-legged kind."

          "Then it must be Indians."

          Heyes shrugged.  If the Kid was determined to be paranoid he might as well give him a few more options.  Besides, he was getting tired of bears and Indians.  "Or maybe it's a crazy old miner, or a couple of desperate outlaws, or maybe it's even—"

          The light flickered off and the laughter faded while the pair of ex-outlaws stood anxiously near their fire.

          "Any other suggestions, Mr. Know-it-all?" Curry asked.

          "Yeah, one of us has to go back in there and find out who it is."

          Curry wrinkled his nose.  "I don't know, Heyes.  I have a real funny feeling about this."

          "Well, I don't feel exactly like jumping for joy myself, Kid, but it might be nice to know if there is a group of Indians back there trying to decide which of our scalps they're going to lift first."

          "I suppose so.  Which one of us is goin'?"

          "I think we ought to be fair about this," Heyes said, then paused for a moment, contemplating the options.  "We should flip a coin."

          "Thanks just the same, Heyes, but I know how that always turns out."

          "Still, I think we should – just to be fair."

          The blond rolled his eyes and nodded, then waited while Heyes dug out a coin.  "Call it," the brunet said, flipping it into the air.

          "Heads," the Kid replied.

          Heyes caught the piece of silver and lifted his hand.  It was tails.  "Sorry, Kid."

          "Hand me a branch I can use for a torch," he replied with a heavy sigh.

          Heyes bent down and rummaged through one of his saddlebags before picking out one of the longer, thin branches from the stack near the now well-burning fire.

          "You gonna be at that all day?" Curry asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder to watch the blackness.

          Heyes ignored the remark and wrapped the bandanna he'd taken out of the saddlebags around the smoking black tip, and tied it in place.  Dipping the torch back into the fire he let the cloth begin to burn before he handed it back to his partner.  "Here," he said, the concern in his eyes saying all that was necessary.

          "It's probably just the wind coming through a crack someplace," Curry concluded.

          "Yeah.  But be careful," Heyes cautioned, then watched the Kid disappear into the black void that lay beyond the first twenty feet of the cave mouth.  Occasionally the ex-outlaw thought he could see a glimmer from the torch, but it didn't last long enough to be sure.

          After several minutes, he couldn't stand the silence anymore and called, "Hey, Kid? See anything?"

          There was no answer.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Curry eased into the darkness, thankful for the red-orange light the torch cast on the imposing stalagmites and stalactites.  The formations reminded him of huge wolves' teeth, and he suddenly found himself forcing back the fears of childhood he'd thought left behind when the pair ran away from the Home for Waywards.

          _There's no reason to be afraid of the dark!_ he told himself.

          A slight wind stirred the flame and Curry felt his heart quicken with the thought of losing the precious light.  He cupped his hand around the fire and continued deeper into the cave.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Kid?  Come on, Jed, this isn't funny.  Answer me!" Heyes called again.  _Where the hell is he?_

          The ex-outlaw looked back down at the fire that was now comfortably blazing and wondered if he should go in after the blond.

          _Five more minutes_ , he decided.  _Five more and I'll go looking.  And if this is some stupid trick, I'll flatten him_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Curry stopped, straining to hear past the soft hiss and pop of the burning branch.  He was sure he'd heard voices a moment before, but now there was nothing.

          He looked at the torch.  _Ten minutes, if I'm lucky_ , he concluded.  It was time to head back to Heyes.

          The blond turned around and started back the way he had come.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "That's it," Heyes said, grabbing up the second stick he had already prepared.  Setting it in the fire, he let the strip of shirt catch, then headed off.

          "Kid, I'm coming in!  Where are you?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          _There!_   Curry froze.  He _had_ heard voices!

          Easing the Colt out of his holster, he let the weapon settle comfortably into his grip before he started forward again.

          More than one voice, too.  Heyes had been right; there was someone else in the shelter with them after all.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Heyes knelt down and held the burning branch close to the ground.  He could clearly make out the Kid's boot prints in the powdery dust that covered the floor of the cave.  Standing, he walked several yards farther in, then repeated the procedure.  The prints were still there, still going forward.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The branch was nearly consumed when Curry felt the cold hand descend on his shoulder.

          "Ahaaaa!" he yelled.

          "Ahaaaa!" came an echoed reply.

          Several chuckles filled the space, echoing off the walls of the cave.

          Curry spun, bringing the weapon up only to find himself pointing it into empty blackness.

          "Heyes?" he called.  "That wasn't funny!"

          A strong gust of ice-cold wind wrapped around the blond, snuffing out the flame and leaving him in pitch blackness.

          "Heyes?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Heyes dropped the torch when he yelled.  The cold hand on his shoulder was gone, but so was his light.

          "Who's there?" he demanded in the blackness.  The eerie laugh from earlier was his only reply.  "Kid?"

          _No, even if he was mad at me, the Kid wouldn't…_  "Look, whoever you are, we don't mean you any harm.  My friend and I are just trying to keep from freezin' to death out in the snow."

          Squatting down, Heyes felt around for the abandoned torch, his hand bumping into something hard and cold.  He jerked his hand away, but then the ex-outlaw investigated further and found himself holding a lantern.  He shook it, then smiled when a sloshing sound told him it was nearly full of fuel.

          Rummaging through his layers of clothes to find the matches he carried, Heyes drew one out and struck it against the stone wall of the cave.  He quickly lit the lamp and blew out the match.

          Shrugging his shoulders against a cold wind that blew past him, Heyes realized for the first time that it wasn't really that cold in the cave once he'd gotten away from the entrance.  In fact, it was actually quite comfortable.

          The light from the lantern allowed him a better look at the cave and the ex-outlaw found himself awed by the size of the place, and the weirdly-shaped rock formations that clung to the walls.  He turned the flame down to conserve as much of the fuel as he could.

          There was no sign of the Kid.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Curry squinted as hard as he could, but it did nothing to improve his sight in the pitch black interior of the cave.  The ex-outlaw had never experienced anything so totally black, and he fought to keep his fear from overwhelming him.  It was like being blind.

          Rummaging through his pockets, he cursed quietly at the lack of matches.  _Now what do I do?_ he thought silently.  _How can I find my way back to Heyes?_

          "Heyes!" he yelled, more in frustration than in hopes of the man hearing him.

          "Kid?" came a faint reply.

          "Heyes, can you hear me?" he yelled again.

          "Yeah.  Keep talking, I'll try to find you."

          "Talking?  I'm yelling!"

          "Well, keep yelling then," came the slightly irritated reply.

          The Kid grinned in the blackness.  That was Heyes all right.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          After fifteen minutes of chasing echoes, Hannibal was getting worried.  What if he wasn't able to find the Kid?  Could they find their way back to the mouth of the cave if he did?  Could he find his way back now?

          "Kid!" he called.

          "Yeah?"

          "Keep talking, I can't find you by smell, you know!"  Heyes grinned.  _Well, maybe I could if he was Kyle, but…_  "Sing!"

          "Sing?" came the echoed response.

          "Sing!  Sing!  It'll keep you making noise!"

          "All right, but you better not make fun of me," Curry replied before launching into a slightly off-key version of _Simple Gifts_.

          The constant noise helped Heyes locate the right direction and he carefully moved through the cave until he rounded a sharp turn and found the Kid.

          "E'ah!" the blond hooted.  The moment of excitation quickly faded when Curry looked down and saw that he was only a foot away from a wide, deep crevasse.  He yelped and scurried back several steps.

          "How'd you get over there?" Heyes asked.

          "I don't know."

          Heyes frowned.  "We must've taken two different paths somewhere, but I was following your boot prints…" he said, trailing off.

          "Yeah, well, we both know what sort of tracker you are, Heyes.  Maybe you were following one of the other guys who's in here."

          "Other guys?  You saw someone?"

          "No, but I sure as hell felt him and heard him.  Damn nasty laugh he's got, too."

          Heyes shook his head.  "Look, I might have a little trouble telling the difference between old and new mountain cat tracks, but I do know mountain cat tracks when I see them.  Those were your tracks I was following."

          "Well, I didn't walk on air to get over here," Curry said.  "How're you going to get over?"

          "Me?  The question is how are _you_ going to get back over here."

          "I was afraid you'd say that," the Kid muttered.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          It didn't take the outlaws long to determine that Curry must have walked on air to get across the space, as neither of their searches turned up another way around the impasse.  The lantern was half-empty when Heyes finally re-joined the blond with the bad news.

          "Heyes, what am I going to do?"

          "I don't know, Kid."

          "You're sure I have to get over there."

          "Yeah."

          The blond studied the trench.  "Well, I guess I make like ol' Mr. Tousdale's mule and jump it."

          Heyes nodded silently.  The gaping hole was a good ten feet wide, probably a foot or two more, but it was safer to think ten.  "Think you can make it?"

          "I don't see where I have much of a choice."

          "Look, take off your jacket and your boots.  You can tie them up and toss them over.  That will lighten you up some."

          Curry nodded and quickly stripped out of the sheepskin.  Prying his boots off he laid them in the center of the coat.  His gunbelt and revolver followed next.  Folding the coat up, the blond used his belt to cinch it closed.  Standing, he took the free end of the belt and wound the bundle up and let it go.  The lump sailed easily across the space and landed at Heyes' feet.

          "You ready?"

          Curry rubbed his palms along his thighs.  "As I'll ever be."

          "Get a good running start."

          "Heyes?"

          "Yeah?"

          "Will you please shut up?"

          "Sorry."

          "That's okay."

          Heyes chewed on his lower lip while his partner stalked several paces back into the darkness.  The lantern flickered.

          "Here I come!" Curry yelled as he rushed forward.

          The lantern flickered again, then sputtered and went out just as Curry reached the lip of the crevasse.

          "Ahaaa!"

          "Kid!"

          Heyes shook the lamp, then dug frantically for a second match with which to re-light it.  The pale light filled the cave and Heyes shivered.  He was alone.

          "Kid?"

          A soft moan echoing up from below was the only reply.

          "Damn," the dark-haired man breathed.

          Without much thought, the ex-outlaw scooped up the bundle, gripped the lantern tighter and walked to the edge of the gap.  Leaning down, Heyes shined the light in as far as it would go.  On Heyes' side, the rock formation slopped off in a gradual, smooth arc, disappearing into the darkness.  The other side was a broken, jagged, drop off.  Sitting down on the edge, Heyes gritted his teeth and allowed himself to slip off the lip.

          Picking up speed as he slid down the rock face, Heyes used the heels of his boots to slow himself down, but the slope gave way to open space and he soon found himself falling.

          Heyes landed with a _thud_ , a cloud of fine powder billowing up around him and prompting a sneeze.  Curry lay sprawled nearby.

          "Kid?" Heyes questioned, moving stiffly over to join the man.  Reaching out, he checked his partner for any broken bones, letting out half the held breath when he found none.

          Rolling the blond onto his back, Heyes frowned at the purple bruise on the Kid's forehead.  "Hey, Kid?  Damn.  I wish I'd thought to bring the canteen with me," he said softly to keep himself from worrying too much.

          "Here ya go, help yourself."

          Heyes jumped, a small yelp escaping.  He spun to find a rather old man squatting nearby.  An identical lantern sat at the man's feet and he held out a canteen to the startled outlaw.

          "Huh, thanks," Heyes said, stepping forward.  "Meaning no offence, you understand, but who the hell are you?"

          The old man chuckled.  "Call me Hank, son."

          "You live here?"

          The chuckle grew into a stretching giggle while Heyes removed his bandanna, soaked it with water and applied it to the Kid's forehead, causing the blond to groan.

          "What do you take me for, son, a complete fool?  O' course I don't live here.  I'm just visitin'."

          "Visiting?"

          "Now, don't you go tellin' me you and your friend there ain't here to do just like me."

          "Get out of the snow?" Heyes asked hopefully.

          "Snow?  You sure you didn't tap your noggin on the way down, yourself?  Snow.  I'm here for the gold!  Gold!  Ain't you?"

          Heyes shook his head.  "No."

          "You ain't?"

          "No."  Heyes turned his attention back to the Kid when the blond groaned a second time and shifted his legs.  "Hey, K— Thaddeus?  Can you hear me?"

          "Heyes?"

          "Huh, no, it's Joshua.  Come on now, wake up, we have company."

          "Com'ny?"

          "Thaddeus Jones, meet Hank."  Heyes looked at the old man, hoping he hadn't caught the muttered name.  "Hank, this here's Thaddeus Jones, and I'm Joshua Smith."

          "Smith?  And Jones?  You sure you ain't here lookin' for the gold?"

          "Nope.  Like I told you, we came in to keep from freezin' to death out there in the desert.  We heard someone laughing and thought we'd better find out who it was.  We got lost.  That's all."

          "You heard 'em?"

          "Heard who?" Heyes asked, helping his partner sit up.

          "Why the ghosts, o' course!"

          "Of course," the Kid echoed, gently touching the growing lump on his head.  "Ouch! What did ya turn the light off for?" he accused.

          "Turned–?  Thaddeus, I wouldn't turn the light off when you were trying— I'm ashamed of you, thinking I could."

          "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, just don't yell.  This is worse than the morning after a jug of Kansas corn liquor."

          Heyes fought back a smile.

          "Have you seen them varmints?" Hank asked.

          "What?" Heyes replied.

          "The ghosts!  You usually this slow, boy?"

          Heyes ground his teeth together.  "Look, Hank–"

          "Well, there's three of 'em.  Three of the meanest, ornery, foul-tempered spirits the good Lord ever missed sending to hell."

          "Joshua?"

          "Yeah?"

          "What's he talkin' about?"

          "Ghosts."

          "Ain't no such thing… are there?" the blond slurred before he slumped forward, Heyes just managing to catch him before he landed on his face for a second time.

          "Thaddeus?  Thaddeus?" Heyes asked, shaking his partner's shoulder slightly. The blue eyes cracked open to glare at him.  "How do you feel?"

          "Like I got kicked in the head by a buffalo."

          "A buffalo?" Heyes asked with a grin he couldn't suppress.

          "Well, something bigger 'n a mule."

          That brought a full-fledged smile to the dark-haired man's face.  "You must be getting better, you're complaining again.  Think you could eat some beans?"

          "Eat?  Beans?  Hell, I'm so hungry I could eat boot leather."

          Hank chortled.

          "What's so funny?" Curry asked suspiciously.

          "Oh, just that I've done that a time o' two – eaten boot leather."

          "Well, if you don't mind, think I'll take the beans this time."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The three men ate in silence, the two ex-outlaws savoring their first real meal in three days.  As Heyes scraped the last of the gravy off his plate he asked, "Can you get us out of here?"

          "Ya mean out of the cave?"

          "Would be nice, Hank.  We don't want to spend the whole winter down here.  No offense."

          "None taken, boy.  I'll be happy to escort you back to the top in the morning."

          "Morning?" Heyes asked.  "How can you possibly tell if it's night or day?"

          The old miner tapped the side of his head.  "I can feel it, in here."

          Heyes' eyebrows climbed.  "Really?"

          "Sure, that and them ghosts."

          "The ghosts tell you what time it is?" Curry questioned, his head starting to pound again.

          "Well, they don't walk up and say, 'Hank, it's three o'clock in the afternoon,' but you can set your watch to the fuss they kick up."

          "Fuss?"

          Hank stared at Heyes.  "Boy, you go 'round repeatin' everything a man's says, he's gonna get right tired o' your company."

          Curry choked on his last bite of beans, drawing a glare from Heyes.  "Sorry, went down the wrong way," the blond explained.

          "What sort of fuss, Hank?" Heyes asked.

          "Why, all that wailin' and laughin', o' course.  Didn't you get down here followin' 'em?"

          "Of course," Curry said.

          "Well, there you go.  They start up just 'bout sunset and keep it up for an hour or two before they settle down fer the night.  Then they'll start up again in the morning, just about sunrise and pester me for another couple o' hours."

          "Great," the Kid muttered.

          "Hank," Heyes said, "what makes you so sure they're ghosts?"

          "'Cause I ain't never been able to get near 'em.  If they was real men, I would've found 'em long 'fore now.  It's the ghosts of them men that was killed."

          "Here?" Curry asked, his gaze spontaneously darting around the cave.

          "Naw, not here.  In Winslow."

          "The bank robbers?" Heyes asked, the picture slowly fitting into place.

          "Yep.  I knew you knew about the gold!"

          "According to the story, the gold was never found.  You're in here looking for it, aren't you, Hank."

          "Naturally!  You think I'd be in this here hole for no reason t'all?"

          Heyes smiled indulgently.  "Hank, what makes you think they left the gold in here?  If they were able to sneak out of the cave, don't you think they'd hide the gold someplace a little easier?  There's lot of territory between here and Winslow."

          "They left the gold in here.  The fourth outlaw, the one that went to prison, he said they stashed the gold in here."

          Curry chuckled.  "Of course he did, so everyone would be looking here and not where they really hid it.  Then when he gets out of prison, or escapes, he can go back and get it himself."

          Hank frowned.  The two men were making far too much sense.  "If they didn't hide the gold here, why are them three ghosts here?"

          "There's no such thing as ghosts," Heyes articulated carefully.

          "Well, there sure is.  You wait 'til dawn."  With that, the older man scampered over to his bedroll and drew a blanket over himself, refusing to talk to the two partners.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "What do you think?" Curry asked when he heard Hank snoring.

          "I think we get him to take us back to the mouth of the cave and we leave.  Tucson can't be too far from here."

          "You think maybe there are ghosts in here?  I mean, there's been some pretty strange things happening."

          "Kid," Heyes said, disappointed.

          "Well, you explain how I got across that crevasse."

          "I can't."

          "Neither can I.  I just don't think we should rule out any possibilities, yet."

          Heyes stretched out near the fire, resting his head on his rolled-up jacket.  "Okay, you and the ghosts have a good night."

          "That's _not_ funny."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          It was a high-pitched laugh that roused Heyes from the dream he was having.  As the last images of the saloon girl faded, he frowned.  _If that's the Kid, trying to be funny, I will flatten him_.

          Heyes opened his eyes.  Hank was still snoring nearby, but Curry was gone.

          Scrambling to his feet, Heyes quickly added a few more pieces of wood to the fire to rekindle the blaze.  Maybe the Kid just had to—

          The thought was cut short when the eerie laughter swelled to fill the enclosed space.  Hank shifted in his bedroll and pulled the blanket down to peer out.

          "Shut-up, you pesky, no-accounts!  Cain't you see I'm trying t' sleep!"  The laughter died off.  "Damn ghosts…"

          Heyes watched the man fall back to sleep before he took one of the burning branches and walked over to the nearest tunnel and called, "Thaddeus?"

          A soft echo seemed to reply.  Heyes gripped the branch tighter and stepped into the tunnel, taking several steps before he called again.

          "Joshua?"

          "Where are you?"

          "I don't know exactly."

          "What?"

          The voice that responded rang with barely-held-in-check anger.  "Look, I had to—"

          "I'm coming in a little farther, just keep talking and I'll find you."

          "I remember what happened the last time you said that.  You keep talking and I'll find _you_."

          Heyes shrugged and started.  "I think we should be able to get to Tucson in a day.  We can get ourselves a stake, then maybe head down to Nogalas.  It's got to be warmer there."

          "Hey!"

          "Kid?" Heyes called.  When there was no reply, he staked forward.

          "Hold it right there," a voice said, the circular press of a gun barrel punctuating the line between Heyes' shoulder blades.  "Get your hands up."

          Heyes slowly raised his hands.  The man reached up and took the burning branch.  In the pale light, the former outlaw caught sight of the Kid standing along the wall of the cave, one knee drawn up nearly to his chest.

          "Let go!" Curry yelled to some unseen assailant.  Heyes watched in fascination as Curry stomped his foot, then raised his leg to repeat the action.  "Heyes?"

          "Kid?  There's nothing there!"

          "Tell that to whatever has a hold of my leg!"

          Heyes turned to find no one standing behind him, either.  "What the devil's going on here!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Kid!"

          The rough shake of his shoulder jarred the blond enough to force him to blink.  "Heyes?"

          "Come on, Kid, we have to keep looking.  We're going to freeze for sure if we don't get to that cave, and you're not helping much dragging along like you are."

          "Cave?"

          "Your ears freeze?" the ex-outlaw leader asked.  "That cave."  Heyes pointed to a back spot in the middle of the otherwise white hillside. "The one I told you about."

          Curry shivered twice before he looked at his partner.  "But we were in that cave, Heyes."

          "Are you all right?" he asked, the concern in his voice serious.

          "We were in there!  Just a minute ago…" the Kid trailed off, the utterly confused expression on the brunet's face enough to convince him it was futile.

          "We've been out here, freezing ourselves blue looking for that cave, Kid.  I think you must've been sleep-walking, and you must've had some dream."

          "Yeah?  Yeah, I guess I did at that," Curry said.

          "Well, come on, would you, I'm getting frostbite standing out here."

          The pair climbed the remainder of the way to the mouth of the cave, Curry pausing as he reached the opening.  Heyes had stepped inside and was exploring the space that was still lit by the rapidly fading sunlight.

          Taking a deep breath, the blond stepped into the gray, snow-free space.

          "Hey, would you look at this?" Heyes said, holding up a handful of kindling.  "The local Indians must use this place."

          Curry didn't respond, the comment too near to the one in his dream for his comfort.

          Heyes frowned.  "Kid, what's the matter with you?  You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

          "Don't even think that, Heyes!"

          "Ghosts?  Now, who'd believe in that nonsense?"

          The two men jumped, swinging toward the sound of the voice.

          Hank cackled.  "It certainly took you boys long enough to find the place!"

          "You know us?" Heyes asked.

          Curry simply stood, looking too pale for the outlaw leader's liking.

          "Well, o' course I do, boy!"  Laughter filled the space, the old miner fading back into the darkness.

          "Hey, wait a minute!" Heyes said, lunging after him.

          Curry reached out to stop his partner.

          "Kid, he might have food, or know where the hell we are, or–"

          "He's a ghost."

          "What?  He's an old miner, a crazy old coot from the looks of it, but he's real enough.  Now one of us has to go in there to find him."

          Curry sighed.  "Oh?"

          "Yeah, and I think we should flip for it."

          The blond thought about the offer for only a moment before he replied.  "Fine, but this time we use _my_ coin!"

The End


End file.
